


When Else

by benjidunn



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Awkwardness, Blow Jobs, First Time, Frottage, Light Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 04:05:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benjidunn/pseuds/benjidunn
Summary: Ethan and Benji go to a safe house for the night after Vienna. Yes, I'm writing my own scenes into Rogue Nation.





	When Else

**Author's Note:**

> I've joked with enough people that Benji and Ethan totally had sex after the opera house episode. So instead of focusing on finals week, you all get this instead.

_“Ethan, this is what I signed up for. Let me help you find him.”_

_“That’s why I brought you here in the first place and look what happened. I can’t protect you. That’s why I need you to leave.”_

_“That’s not your decision to make, Ethan! I am a field agent. I know the risks, and more than that, I am your friend, no matter what I tell the polygraph every week. Now, you called me because you needed my help, and you still do, so I am staying. And that is all we are going to say about that.”_

_“...Okay.”_

_“Good. Where do we start?”_

* * *

There’s a safe house outside of Vienna that Ethan suggests they go to for the night, since it’s larger than the bunker he had been hiding in the for the last few days. He grabs what food he’s collected since arriving in Austria before they take off for the safe house together. Neither says anything on their way there, not with Benji stewing on all the events of the evening and Ethan falling into another stoic mood as he’s prone to do sometimes. The silence is temporary though, as the ride only takes ten or so minutes before they’re pulling into a driveway, tucked away from the main street.

They get out, Benji with the bag of clothing hanging from his hand, Ethan with the bag of food in his. Benji stands aside as Ethan quickly types in a passcode into a keypad hidden within a beam and waits for him to push the door open. He quietly thanks Ethan before passing through, then asks, “Have you been here before?”

“No,” Ethan says as he pulls the door shut behind them.

“How’d you know about this place, then?”

“Someone told me about it a while back. I managed to find it a few days ago.” Ethan passes him and disappears into the kitchen.

“Did you go roaming from door to door until you found the right one?”

“No, I knew.”

Benji doesn’t inquire anymore, allowing the sound of rustling in the kitchen to fulfill the air instead. He stays near the front door, choosing to take in the house. It’s smaller than other safe houses he’s used to, but it feels cozy. Somewhere he wouldn’t mind living in for a while.

Ethan appears in the doorway of the kitchen a minute later, slouched against the wall, hands in pocket. “I don’t know when you last ate,” he starts, “but feel free to take anything I brought along.” He pauses suddenly, eyes flicking down Benji’s frame, still clad in the tux he arrived to the opera in that night. “Your change of clothes is in that bag.” He nods towards the bag in Benji’s hand.

“So you said.”

There’s no immediate response from Ethan. Rather, his eyes move to Benji’s chest and stay there for one second, two, Benji becoming more aware that Ethan’s staring at him with each one that passes, until, at last, his gaze meets Benji’s once more.

“Bedroom and bathroom are down that hallway,” he says, now tilting his head towards the hallway in question. “I’m going to take a quick shower, if you don’t mind.”

“I think you’ve earned one tonight.”

Benji expects a smile, something from Ethan, but all he gets Ethan gesturing to the bag in his hand. “I need my clothes,” he explains softly.

“Oh.” He passes the bag off. “I’ll go get something to eat.”

Ethan’s lips twist upward so quickly that Benji wonders if he imagined it before heading down the hallway.

Benji lingers there for a moment, brow furrowed, lips pursed. Ethan’s not necessarily a talkative person, and definitely has his quiet spells, but there’s something different tonight. Maybe Ethan isn’t telling him everything about the Syndicate. Maybe he’s distracted by the way the night had gone, especially if he really didn’t want Benji to come along with him after what happened at the opera. He shrugs it off, though, and goes to the kitchen, where he sorts through the variety of things Ethan had collected and settles on an apple.

After taking a few bites of it and musing to himself about what could be bothering Ethan, he decides to go to the bedroom to see what clothing Ethan had found for him. When he enters, he finds one queen-sized bed in the center of the room and a loveseat tucked against the wall with a quilt draped across its arm. The bag, however, is nowhere to be seen.

He takes another bite of his apple and quickly raises his hand to his face when he feels some juice dribble down his chin. Benji nearly wipes his hand across his pant leg, only to close it into a fist when he remembers that he’s still in his tux. He lets out a short sigh and begins looking for the bag under the bed, in the closet, behind the couch, until he wonders if maybe, Ethan had taken it with him into the bathroom on accident.

Now he returns to the hallway and to the bathroom. The door is slightly ajar, just enough for Benji to peek through and spot the bag on the floor. He pushes the door open with his fingertips and slides through, ready to announce that he’s in the bathroom before Ethan could get out or get spooked by any noises Benji might make, when he’s suddenly cut off by Ethan moaning, “ _Benji._ ”

Benji freezes. For a brief second he considers that maybe Ethan knows he’s there though his incredible secret spy abilities, but the low tone of his voice and the sigh that escapes him afterwards proves too suggestive for it to be that innocent.

His heart hammers when he hears Ethan do it again, this time breathier, more pleading. Benji silently curses at himself for entering without knocking, and curses himself again for the fact that hearing Ethan say his name like that rouses lust in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t be there anymore, but it feels like a fantasy of his come to life, so overwhelming that he can’t find the will to move his legs.

Over the running water, he can just make out that Ethan’s pants are getting faster. That snaps him back into reality. Before Ethan can get any further, he raps his knuckles against the door. “Just me,” he says, trying his hardest to sound as casual as possible.

The ragged breathing comes to a halt. “Benji?” Ethan calls, voice strained.

“You took the clothing bag with you.”

“Oh.” Pause. “Sorry.”

Benji hesitates for a moment before unzipping the bag and digging around. There are outfits for tomorrow, and then there are two pairs of sweatpants. He grabs the pair closest to his size before leaving and shutting the door behind him as quickly as he could.

Now his breath escapes him in short spurts. He would convince himself that he’s overthinking if it weren’t for the fact that those gasps and moans are absolutely unmistakable, especially when Benji had done the same thing before in his own bathroom. But the worst part of all is that he had been thinking of Ethan more often than not over the past few years, and if Ethan, now, had really been masturbating to the thought of _him_ \--

He goes to the bedroom, sets down the apple on a side table, and begins undressing. When he pulls his pants down, it irritates him to see his cock starting to harden. It’s not the time, he thinks to himself as he tosses his tux on the bed and pulls on his sweatpants. He leaves his clothes there and returns to the kitchen with apple in hand, just to look through what they could eat tomorrow before they take off again and wondering if Ethan had grabbed him a toothbrush along with a change of clothes.

When he finishes his apple, he tosses it in a small trash can by the doorway and makes his way back to the bedroom. He notices the bathroom door is open, revealing that Ethan had vacated it sometime since Benji had gone to the kitchen. Then he turns into the bedroom to find Ethan neatly hanging Benji’s tuxedo jacket in the closet, hair still wet, a towel around his waist.

“You don’t have to do that,” Benji tells him. “I would have hung it up but I thought I could beat you back here.”

“It’s alright.”

Benji’s attempt at a light conversation is lost on Ethan. There’s that same tenseness from before, but increased tenfold, now. His heart skips a beat as he takes in Ethan, the bulk of his muscles, the faint scars etched in his skin like the lines on marble. There’s that dull throbbing between his legs again that doesn’t go away this time, even when Benji tears his eyes away from Ethan and redirects them towards the bed instead.

“I’ll take a shower tomorrow morning,” he tells Ethan.

“Alright.”

Ethan passes by Benji and exits into the hallway. A couple of seconds later, the door to the bathroom clicks shut.

Benji lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. This is definitely uncharacteristic for Ethan. It could just be the stress of the night, only worsened by the fact that Benji had almost definitely heard Ethan getting off in the shower. But reflecting on it isn’t doing helping him, any. Going to bed and forgetting about it in the morning is the best thing he could do for right now.

He approaches the right side of the bed and folds the bedsheets back. Then he lies down, shivering slightly at the coolness of the fitted sheet against his bare torso. The thought of how long it had been since anyone last slept here occurs to Benji. Who ever washed these sheets? How much time passes between washes? Maybe that’s something that Benji could do tomorrow.

His quiet thinking is interrupted as Ethan enters the room again. He flips the light out before Benji has a chance to look at him, but in the dim moonlight passing through the window, he can tell that Ethan’s in his sweatpants, which hang low on his hips. Instead of getting into bed with Benji, however, he goes to the loveseat, picks up the quilt, and settles down.

“You don’t have to sleep over there,” Benji tells him.

“I’m alright.”

“Really, Eth--”

“I’m okay.”

The curtness in his tone cuts Benji short. He hesitates there for a moment, looking at Ethan with a furrowed brow, before settling back down onto his pillow again. There’s something about all this that bothers him, because Ethan is never like this with him. This has to be more than just a stressful night.

A few minutes pass with Benji’s mind reeling with so many things that it feels like radio static, until, at last, he says, “Ethan?”

He gets no response.

“Ethan?” he repeats, this time louder.

“Hm?”

“Are you asleep?”

“Mm-mm.”

Benji pauses when he realizes that his heart is racing again. He takes a deep breath and continues, “I heard you earlier.”

The air is a terse as a drawn rope, now. Benji swallows down hard as he waits for Ethan to say anything, do anything, just acknowledge that he heard him.

“I have no good excuse,” Ethan sighs after an elongated silence.

“You don’t--”

“I’m sorry, really, I just haven’t--”

“Ethan, you really--”

“You yelled at me, and I--”

They both stop suddenly. “What about me yelling at you?”

“I, um…”

“You got turned on because I yelled at you?”

Nothing. Then, a quiet, “Yeah.”

Benji’s heart is pounding so loudly in his ears that it’s almost deafening.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan says again, shame heavy in his voice. “I’ve been alone for six months, I guess…”

“I’m not offended or anything.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

“I get it.”

But Ethan’s still quiet. His uncomfortable silence rouses Benji to sit up straight and look at him.

“That wasn’t the first time, was it?” Benji asks.

“First time for what?”

“First time that I’ve turned you on.”

Nothing.

Benji inhales and asks, “Do you want to share the bed with me? I don’t mind.”

“I’m okay over h--”

“I want you to share a bed with me,” he interrupts.

Each pause before Ethan’s responses feel longer than the last. “Are you sure?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we? Sharing a bed is normal agent stuff.”

This time, the quiet is interrupted by the sound of a moving blanket and the soft pit-pat of footfalls towards the direction of the bed. Benji reclines back on the bed and faces the direction of the wall again. Then he feels the blankets pull back and the bed sink underneath the new body beside him.

Benji can already feel himself hardening again, even if Ethan hadn’t even touched him. He’s been in close situations with Ethan before, that’s just an occupational hazard, but this is nothing like he’s ever experienced before. It takes all the energy he can muster to roll onto his other side, only to be immediately met with Ethan’s green eyes, dark with an emotion Benji had never seen before.

“This is okay, isn’t it?” Benji asks.

Ethan responds with one slow nod of his head. His eyes stay locked on Benji’s.

Benji swallows again and finds his throat has gone dry. “Is it okay if I move closer?”

“Mm.” That’s all he says, but it’s all Benji needs to scoot forward, until his knees brush against Ethan’s.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” His voice is a whisper, now.

Ethan’s eyes flit down towards his lips as he drapes an arm around Benji’s waist loosely. He’s not grabbing him or holding him, but that simple gesture is enough to make Benji’s breath hitch.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable earlier,” Benji reassures him. “If anything, I felt uncomfortable that I walked in without knocking.”

“Bad manners.”

“I just thought, since we’re friends, it would be okay if I walked--”

“Benji,” Ethan says, and Benji stops immediately. “Why did you ask me to join you in bed?”

He pauses before answering with, “Do you really need to ask that?”

Ethan’s arm suddenly moves, hand running down Benji’s back until it finally settles on his ass. “I want to hear your answer before I do anything I regret.”

Benji’s cock twitches. He’s suddenly aware of everything, the way goosebumps race down his skin when Ethan exhales, the sensation of Ethan’s fingers gently pressing into his ass, the way his whole body trembles with each heartbeat.

“Let me tell you this, then,” Benji starts. “You moaning my name like that was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You heard me say your name?”

“I was in there a bit before you heard me knock,” he says sheepishly. “Really, it should be me apologizing to you.”

Ethan doesn’t say anything for a moment; then he presses against Benji’s back, so that they’re even closer, now, noses just barely brushing. “That wasn’t the first time you’ve turned me on.”

 _Oh, fuck_ , he thinks, because this is all so sudden and so fast, but he hasn’t seen Ethan in six months and he might not see him in six more. If there’s any time to do this, it’s now.

“Good,” he says at last, “because this isn’t the first time you’ve turned me on, either.”

Lust, that’s what’s hanging heavy in Ethan’s eyes. It turns into something even deeper after Benji says that, something more desperate. It’s the last thing Benji is aware of before Ethan kisses him, slow, cautious, but full of need. When they break apart, they hover near each other for a moment, until Benji sighs and kisses him again, this time a more aggressively. Ethan’s lips are sweet with the residue of whatever soap he had used in the shower, so contradictory to the way he smells, musky, manly, something that Benji can’t fully describe.

Then Ethan hooks his legs around Benji’s hip and softly rolls him onto his back, kissing harder, more confidently, more urgently. Benji laces his fingers through Ethan’s hair, still slightly damp, and Ethan responds by sinking his teeth into Benji’s lower lip. He lets out a small chuckle when Benji gasps into his mouth and takes advantage of the situation by slipping his tongue between his lips.

They only pause when Ethan presses down against Benji, causing both of them groan when their cocks brush against each other. “Fuck, you’re hard,” Ethan breathes, and it only then occurs to Benji that maybe Ethan is just as shocked as he is, that they’ve both been existing in their own wistful longings, dreaming about something they thought they could never have. That realization only makes Benji all the more accepting when Ethan drags his calloused fingers over the skin of his hips and presses searing kisses from the top of his throat down to his collarbone.

Ethan suddenly sucks at the pulse in Benji’s neck and causes him to arch up into him. A soft moan leaves his lips as he scrambles to grab fistfuls of Ethan’s hair. This is pure ecstasy, almost too much for Benji to bear, now completely dizzy, mind bursting with Ethan’s name over and over and over. Then he’s aware that Ethan’s knee is pressed between his legs, so close that when Benji clamps his legs around him and rolls his hips forward, Ethan stops and lets out a sigh.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ethan murmurs.

He’s never been more sure of anything in his life, but Ethan looks at him with the same palpable nervousness that runs through Benji’s veins. There isn’t an easy response, partly because Benji is too winded to get anything out, anyway, but looking into Ethan’s eyes, pupils dilated with desire, feels so right.

Benji swallows, finds his breath, and says, “When else?”

He regrets it almost as soon as he says it, as if he’s implying that either of them could die during this mission, or they may never see each other ever again. That’s too terrible for him to consider right now, not when he’s under Ethan like this. But Ethan doesn’t hesitate to lean forward and kiss him again, lips swollen and frantic for another taste of him. He ruts his knee up against Benji again and Benji groans.

“What do you want?” Ethan asks, voice so quiet that Benji nearly misses it.

“Whatever you want.”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t really plan on having sex. Otherwise I might have brought something.”

Benji tightens his hold around Ethan’s neck. “Then we can make do.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Ethan pulls back, untangling himself from Benji’s arms, far enough where Benji can see that his neck and skin are tinted with a light flush. Their gazes hold onto each other, so intense that Benji feels like he’s melting, especially when Ethan reaches out, cups his hand around Benji’s jaw, and drags his thumb across his cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” Ethan sighs. “God, I missed seeing you.”

“How long have you thought that?”

“Hm?”

“That I’m beautiful.” He nearly blushes as he says the words.

“I guess I didn’t--” Ethan hesitates. “I thought it for a while, I just didn’t realize until I couldn’t see you anymore.”

“You mean after you were unceremoniously dumped by the American government.”

“Yeah.”

It’s Benji’s turn to caress Ethan’s face. “And it wasn’t until then that you realized…”

Ethan nuzzles his face into his hand. “Yeah.”

Benji’s heart is pounding so quickly again that he feels faint. “Did you touch yourself when you thought of me?”

There’s a pause before Ethan responds, “Yes.”

“Just like you were in the shower?”

“Yes.”

Benji watches as Ethan’s eyes go dark with arousal. He removes his hand from his face and reaches down, until he groping at the front of Ethan’s sweatpants. The firmness of Ethan’s cock in the palm of his hand nearly makes Benji groan again, but he holds it back and says, “Did you cum?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Because I interrupted you.”

“Mm-hm.”

“What were you thinking about?” He runs his hand down Ethan’s length.

Ethan closes his eyes and says, “You touching me.”

“Just like this?”

“Not exactly.”

“How?”

Ethan gently pushes Benji’s hand away, pulls down his sweatpants, and then his briefs, just enough that Benji can drag his fingers across the tip of Ethan’s cock. That makes Ethan moan, short, quiet, but it’s enough to motivate Benji to shift until Ethan’s on his back, gladly holding Benji against him, meeting his lips in a sweet kiss before Benji moves down his body. He litters kisses across his chest first, thumbing his nipples, taking his time moving across his skin. Then he makes a beeline down his torso, settling near his belly button. Ethan tilts his head back and lets out a terse breath as Benji curls his fingers around his sweatpants and briefs and finishes removing them before tossing them off the bed completely.

They both sigh as Benji settles between Ethan’s legs and buries his nose into his thigh. “Is this what you imagined?” he mutters before pressing a kiss against him.

“Better,” is all Ethan can get out.

Benji smiles and makes his slow path up his leg and towards his groin, until he kisses the underside of his cock once, twice.

Ethan jerks his knees upwards and chokes out, “ _Benji_ ,” just like he had in the shower.

“It’s so fucking hot when you say my name like that.” He brushes his lips up his length and stops before he reaches the tip.

“Benji,” he repeats, only this time more urgent. “Please.”

He’s unbearably hard himself, but teasing Ethan like this is a dream. For a number of moments, he leaves soft kisses around Ethan’s girth, ignoring the whimpers coming from the older man, until, finally, he moves up and forward and closes his lips around the tip of his cock.

Ethan’s reaction is instantaneous. “ _Fuck_ ,” he exhales, hips bucking forward from the unexpected movement. Benji pauses, cradles his hands around Ethan’s hip bones, flicks his eyes up at him, and then sinks down further onto his cock. He presses his hands downwards before Ethan can inadvertently choke him, and the sensation of constraining him like that is unbelievably arousing. Benji’s own cock is so hard that it’s aching, absolutely begging for release, but having Ethan in front of him like this, so vulnerable, so needy for him and him alone, is this best thing he’s ever experienced.

He bobs his head leisurely at first, taking his time to draw out various whimpers and moans from Ethan, until he pulls back with a light pop and runs his tongue down his cock. “Jesus, Benji,” Ethan grunts.

“You like that?” Benji kisses up his cock again.

“ _Yes_.”

He smiles and takes Ethan back into his mouth, moving quicker this time, until Ethan laces his fingers through Benji’s hair and fights against his hands so he can thrust his hips upwards. Benji hums, and Ethan lets out a loud groan, body jerking underneath Benji. They move faster and faster, until Ethan’s cries turn into a repeated, “Stop, stop.”

Benji obeys as soon as the words process. He lifts his head up and casts a concerned look towards Ethan. “Is something wrong?”

“I want to see you.” Ethan gestures at him to come up and Benji follows, lifting himself up until they’re face to face. Ethan wraps his arms around him and pulls him into deep kiss, one that somehow leaves Benji feeling even more breathless than he already was to begin with. One of Ethan’s hands slide down Benji’s back and then around his body until he’s cupping Benji’s erection in his hand. Benji squirms, moans into his mouth, and allows Ethan to tip him onto his back, so that he can tug off his sweatpants in a similar manner, until they’re both completely naked.

“God,” Ethan sighs as he drinks Benji in, eyes bouncing from his throat to his cock to his legs and back again. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He runs his hands up his thighs, up his hips, up his chest. “I want…” He licks his lips, but says nothing more. Instead, their mouths collide again, Ethan falling onto his side and bringing Benji with him. They gasp for air every so many seconds, only to kiss again, over and over, like waves crashing on the shore.

“Ethan,” Benji murmurs when he pulls away to nip at Benji’s neck, “what do you want?”

He exhales, heavy, like he’s unable to say whatever it is on his mind. Then he pushes forward, so that their cocks rub together, and it draws a labored gasp from both of them.

“Show me what you want,” Benji whispers.

That’s all Ethan needs to flip Benji onto his back again. He spits in his hand and curls it around Benji’s cock, jerking roughly a few times until Benji flops his head back onto the pillow and lets out a relieved cry. Jesus Christ, this is heaven. But that’s not what Ethan wants to do. He grabs Benji’s face with his free hand and meets him with a sloppy kiss; then he takes his other hand off Benji’s cock, grabs his leg, pushes it up so that it’s hooked around his arm, and shoves his hips forward, hard, jutting their two cocks together.

Benji almost shouts at the sensation. It’s fucking magnificent, especially when Ethan does it again, and again, until there’s a steady tempo, quick, needy. Both of them gasp into each other’s mouths, overwhelmed by the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other. The ecstasy builds up quickly, drumming in Benji’s chest, in his stomach, so strongly that he wonders if he might pass out in total bliss. He grabs handfuls of Ethan’s hair again, but Ethan’s fast to reach up, grasp around his wrists, and then shove backwards, until he’s holding Benji’s arms over his head, leaving unable to do anything but succumb to Ethan’s touch.

“Fuck, Ethan,” he whines. 

His mind cries out with too many things to fully process. So he focuses on Ethan, just Ethan, the way it feels to be under him, to be completely open and available to absolutely anything he wants, his lips sucking so hard at his throat that it’s likely to bruise. He wouldn’t have it any other way, because nothing could compare to moving his hips in time with Ethan’s, both of them groaning and grunting, bringing each other closer and closer to climax.

Ethan’s movements become jerky, harsher, breaths more unsteady. “Say my name,” Benji whispers.

“Benji.”

“Louder.”

“Benji, fuck!”

The orgasm is building in him, stronger and stronger. “Cum for me, Ethan,” Benji mutters. “Cum, darling.”

Ethan lets out a few gasps before letting out a long, “ _Benji_.” His cock spews cum across Benji’s stomach, travelling all the way up to his chest. The sight and sound of Ethan cumming is enough to send Benji over the edge, too, cumming harder than he’s ever cummed before in his life. Waves of euphoria rip through his body, until he’s panting, shaking, mind going wild in the aftermath of his climax.

Ethan collapses on him, burying his face in the crook of his neck, taking deep breaths in between soft kisses. He loosens his grip on Benji’s wrists, allowing him to tug them away from Ethan and embrace him again. Then he kisses Ethan’s temple and murmurs, “Are you okay?”

“Mm-hm.” His voice rumbles in his throat.

Benji rubs small circles into Ethan’s back, kissing him over and over, sweetly, gently, without any plan to stop, because there might not be --

“Benji?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to do this again.”

Of course he does, but the suggestion makes him feel like crying, anyway.

“Okay.” He tightens his arms around him. “I’d like to, as well.”

“Okay,” Ethan echoes.

He can feel his heart returning to its normal rate, and with it, his mind clears. The fact that he has Ethan in his arms feels more and more real with each second.

Now, Benji hesitates. “Things won’t be… weird now, will they?”

“Mm-mm.”

Ethan responds fast enough that the slight anxiety bubbling up inside of him dissolves away. “Okay,” he says once more, and he brushes his lips against the side of Ethan’s face again. Who knows what will happen, if they’ll stop the Syndicate, if they’ll ever get to go back to the IMF. Maybe it doesn’t matter, not with Ethan on top of him, lips tickling neck, each soft breath warming his skin. Nothing could be better than that, regardless of the circumstances.

They’re silent for a while, long enough where Benji’s not sure if Ethan’s awake or not, but there’s just one thing pestering him still. “Ethan?”

“Yeah?” he mumbles in response.

“Do you know who washes all the bedsheets for safe houses?”

He pauses. “What makes you ask that?”

“I think that it would be for the best if we wash the sheets for whoever comes here next.”

There’s a beat before Ethan laughs, sleepy but amused, and it’s absolutely lovely to hear. “I think that’s a good idea,” he tells Benji.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“Is that why you’re still awake?”

“Yes!”

Ethan laughs again, kisses his jaw, and murmurs, “Go to sleep.”

“Yes, sir,” Benji responds. He settles down, run his fingers through Ethan’s hair, and falls asleep quickly.


End file.
